


The Many Deaths of Amras

by Ferith12



Category: SilmFilm Project, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Gen, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-02 17:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14550066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ferith12/pseuds/Ferith12
Summary: In which I take possibly too much glee in killing off Amras.





	1. Suicide (1)

**Author's Note:**

> The Silmarillion Film Project is a podcast that maps out a theoretical adaptation of the Silmarillion as a TV show with multiple seasons wherein "let's kill off Amras" is becoming something of a running joke. ... So this is me writing AU fanfic for a show that doesn't exist.

All he could smell was the stench of burning.

He should have known Amrod was on the ship.  They had always been together, the two of them, always known each others' hearts and minds as if they were their own.

All he could see was flames.

He had set the ships on fire.  He had set his brother on fire.  He should have stood with Maedhros against his father.  He should have burned with Amrod.

The screams echoed in his ears.

Father spoke as though Amrod deserved it.  He knew he should protest.  He wanted to scream against the injustice, but he had not the breath through the smoke and the haze of the burning light, could not hear his father through the screams.  Maedhros spoke instead, grief stricken and furious.

Amras hovered on the fringes as no one noticed, wandered into the woods away from camp wreathed in smoke, with death in his ears and eyes and heart and soul.  He took a knife from his belt, put it to his heart, and followed his brother home.


	2. Random Orcs

He was, perhaps, not paying as much attention as he should have been.

It was not, perhaps, entirely wise to be walking in a strange and dark land alone.

But then, they were young yet, the Feanorions.  Naive still, having known little evil that was not of their own devising.

It was folly, perhaps, but Amras was not thinking as clearly as he might have been, his heart broken and his mind clouded with grief.  He needed time alone to think, away from his brothers, comforting and condemning.

He needed to put it straight in his mind, who was to blame, whether blame mattered in the end, what course to take in this bleak and ugly future.  If he saw or heard the strange and ugly forms around him he paid them no heed.

He fell with an orc arrow to his head long before he was decided.


	3. Suicide (2)

He did not reswear the oath.

His father, the murderer, his father, had demanded.  He had not obeyed.

He watched as Feanor exploded in flames, and a small, ugly part of him wanted to be glad.

He did not reswear the oath.  It did not matter that he had not, he had already sworn, was already doomed.  It would have cost him nothing, that show of loyalty to his father.  But he had not sworn. He was not loyal, could not be.

They stood now on the edge of a precipice, he and his brothers, they had already stumbled, would fall all the way down.  He knew with utter certainty.  Perhaps it was foresight, perhaps it was the simple common sense that no one in his family had before possessed.  He could see the world so clearly, and their place in it.  Behind them was the stench of burning flesh, before the fire and destruction and wrath devouring utterly until all that remained was the everlasting darkness.

If he were a kinder person, perhaps he would have waited.  But he was a Feanorion.  He was not kind.  He took his knife from its sheath at his belt and put it to his throat.  If it was to the everlasting darkness that he must go, then he would go now.  He would not burn fruitlessly and cruelly upon their hopeless, pointless quest.  Let it be a lesson to his brothers.


	4. Lost at Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, it's Amrod's pov

Amras was dead.

Amrod would not have believed it, were it not for the fact that his absence was palpable, a constant emptiness that ached.  Amrod should have stayed home with Mother.  He had wished to from the beginning.  It was Amras, bright, brave, determined Amras, who had insisted on going, and Amrod couldn't bare to be parted from him.  Look at the good that had gotten him.

Father had said as they set out, his eyes flaming, proud and fearless and commanding, that the wind came at his call.  He had been wrong.  The very air of Valinor expelled them and the waves devoured them.   

Father had not even wept at the news, his face as cold and set as stone.  "We must expect sacrifices in war," he said.  Amrod would have been a kinslayer indeed, he thought, if he had had a weapon on him.

They have landed.  Feanor and six of his sons.  Many bodies have been left behind.

Amrod stole into one of the abandoned ships, palantir clasped firmly under his arm.  He will return to his mother if the Valar allow it, and if not he will seek his brother in Mandos.


End file.
